And then there were Two Princes
by Challijo
Summary: A story about friendship.  And just for fun.  Pretty much the usual Merlin story- someone arrives, magical stuff happens, Arthur and Merlin both think they're raising each other, etc...
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** Not mine, not mine, not mine… probably couldn't even spell their names… definitely can't imitate their awesome accents. Tried about seven times and failed. Everyone that I made up is fake. That's usually the definition of made up. Don't know anything about the history of the time and little about the legend, so if you're one of those people who likes realistic stuff in realistic times, this is probably not for you, and I won't be offended. But if you're one of those people who are like, "Dude—this is Brittish Scifi—anything can happen—there can be air conditioning in Merlin's room and no indoor plumbing at the same time and it's all good," then yay, you and I would probably be friends. Even though they actually had indoor plumbing in like, 1500 BC, so that would technically be the more likely of the two to have. See—I find holes in my own logic all the time. How did indoor plumbing become a lost technology? Seriously, who thought, "No—let's just get rid of it. I mean, no one really uses indoor plumbing. I would much rather spend my winter months trecking all the way to the water, knifing my way through the frozen ice, possibly falling in and drowning! Think of all the excitement we could have if it weren't for indoor plumbing…" I'll stop talking now. Because that's what I do… rant… and about nothing important…

It was that time again. The time that Merlin's gotten really good at. He had to concentrate—this took him YEARS to perfect. While it could be considered a skill, Merlin preferred to think of it as a trick. Tricks sounded more fun. And it made him believe he was using his… special gifts… in broad daylight. Sure, it was in a dark hallway by himself with Arthur's door closed, and technically he wasn't using any of his magic, but this was a special gift, too! One that took a long, LONG time to master.

_Steady the third plate… Arthur will never forgive you if he loses his meat… _Merlin thought to himself. Arthur loved his protein, and this was a predicament Merlin faced every day—two hands, three large plates. Some days near harvest there were four or five plates. Those were the times when his skills were really pushed to the limit. But today, being only three…

The bread and cheese plate he could drop. He had become very expert at wiping dirt off of that food. What Arthur didn't know wouldn't hurt him. But when it came to meat, Arthur had almost a super sensitivity—he knew exactly how it should taste, and he knew EXACTLY where it had been. The kitchen was too far away. Whoever designed this castle was stupid. If Merlin had designed it, he wouldn't have made it so everyone had such a far way to walk if they had dropped things like plates meant to feed royalty.

_Just a little bit more…_ the latch clicked and the door opened. Another successful day. Not only did he not trip the entire way down the wing and up the stairs, but he had managed to balance what Merlin was sure were three of the largest and heaviest pieces of china ever invented. _Probably invented by royalty as just another method of torturing the people who serve them, _Merlin thought. Arthur would invent something like that, just for Merlin.

The door swung open and Merlin almost lost his balance in surprise. He looked up at Arthur. "You're up early."

Arthur was already doing his morning stretches. "Couldn't sleep," Arthur replied with a smile.

"And you're dressed? Well, you don't need me anymore—you've finally learned to wake up all on your own!" Merlin patronized, with mocked pride.

Arthur stopped his stretches and smirked, moving closer to the table for his food. "And you've finally learned what I have been saying all along—you're completely useless." Arthur sat down and took a bite out of his bacon.

"You're really excited, aren't you?" Merlin asked, ignoring Arthur's taunts, and already knowing the answer to his question.

"It's been five years, Merlin. I can't believe it. How time flies."

Merlin started his task of tidying up the room. "I'm sure you'll have plenty of time to catch up."

"You are going to like him. Everyone does. He is so…"

"Charming, bold, and noble. Like a prince. I know. We've had this conversation every day for the past week," Merlin interrupted, content to just carry out his duties and pretend to ignore Arthur. "I've met a lot of nobles, and very few impress me," he added, more for the sake of trying to get a rile out of Arthur than anything else.

Merlin was making the bed, so Arthur stood up and leaned against the pillars of it to talk to him. "But this time's different. Ainsley and I—since we were eight, there's been this bond between us." Merlin stopped and looked up at Arthur once he heard the excitement in Arthur's voice. It wasn't the kind of excitement that accompanies adrenaline or that Arthur got when they had just caught something rare on a big hunt. It was a quiet excitement—the kind that Merlin rarely saw in Arthur—the kind that meant Arthur was actually looking forward to this—that he was _happy_. This meant a lot to him. Merlin couldn't remember the last time he saw that in Arthur. After everything that's happened to them in the last year, Arthur needed this kind of excitement and something to look forward to in his life. And it was rare that Arthur opened up to Merlin about his past. "From the moment we first spoke to each other, something inside of us just clicked. Our lives were so similar, being a crown prince. Over the years as we came to realize what our titles meant, he was the only one I could talk to—who understood what I was going through. He faces the same challenges that I face. He has the same concerns and fears. Each time we see each other, it's like no time has passed at all. He's exactly like me…" Arthur let his voice trail off, lost in thought, his eyes brightening.

Merlin couldn't stay quiet for long. "_Exactly _like you? Great…"

Arthur smirked again. "I know it's hard for you to imagine, Merlin. You're not in the least bit unique or interesting. It's easy to relate to you."

"Well you've never seemed to manage it," Merlin shot back under his breath.

Arthur suddenly became serious again, as if remembering something. "Ainsley's mother always took pity on me, since I had no mother of my own. I felt like I could go to her for anything. I always looked forward to the days she would be here. This castle would feel like a home." Merlin didn't reply. He knew what it felt like. There were times in Ealdor Merlin would just watch as the men interacted with their sons, wondering what it would be like if one of them pretended to be his father. No one ever did. Not once. "When she died, I felt like a part of me had died with her. Although she would only be Camelot's guest for a few weeks every year, those few weeks were among the happiest of my life." Arthur moved closer to the window. "I haven't seen Ainsley since it happened. His father, like mine, became distant, and Ainsley's had more responsibilities to fulfill. It's left him little time for visits like these."

"Sounds like you two were very close," Merlin interjected.

Arthur paused and looked out the window. "He's my best friend."

Merlin wasn't sure how he felt about that comment. He was a little let down, considering all they had been through in the last four years. But at the same time, he understood. Arthur and Ainsley were on the same level. They had the same status. They were both not allowed to have friends. If there was someone—anyone – who understood everything Merlin was going through, he would probably have a deep connection with that person, too. Seeing Arthur this excited and not stressed… maybe it wouldn't be a terrible thing to have a noble visit after all. Maybe he was a little curious about this Ainsley. This was Arthur's his first relationship with no responsibility attached whatsoever. Arthur didn't have to think about himself as a prince. To him, they were simply normal friends.

"He's here!" Arthur exclaimed, trying not to sound as excited as he really was. And with that, Merlin followed him down the stairs and incredibly long hallway.


	2. Chapter 2

Thanks so much for the reviews, guys! You're all nice, awesome people! Sorry for the late update—my laptop DIED died. It was really sad, because I love my laptop. I just sat there thinking, "What did I do without my laptop and internet before? I remember those days, barely, but I can't remember what I used to do… I guess I was like, productive and stuff. HAHAHAHA… oh mind, stop making things up- that never happened… " Then I got really confused. Then I got my computer back! And I was happy!

And why yes, I did choose these names just so people's minds could stumble over them and think, "… how do you pronounce this…" And because they were in the "really old English names" webpage I found.

DISCLAIMER: Everything I said before…

*Setting up the storyline…

Chapter 2

Elsewhere in Camelot—somewhere deep in the woods that everyone's scared of and dies in…

"_The first memory I have is of this hill…" _Beroun thought to himself as they approached it. Beroun did not care about going into hiding, or about being hated by "ordinary" people. He knew no ordinary people. Everyone and everything he ever cared about was beside him still. Part of him didn't understand what the big deal was. Camelot hated magic. The Druids embraced it. If that was Camelot's choice, let them be a separate people. Why lurk around in the shadows? Why did so many strangers that his own people feed and shelter for the night end up making war against Uther? There were other lands besides Camelot—if you weren't welcomed, leave! But Beroun was around Arthur's age—he was too young to have sentimental value towards Camelot. He did not know the people who died in the Great Purge. It was not his children that had been drowned. He couldn't remember what life had been like before exile. To him, these woods had been his home. If magic were to ever return to the kingdom, he probably wouldn't even choose to live in the city. Nothing would change for him. Fear of knights and nobility or even a village commoner would be replaced by new threats soon enough. Whether they were knights of Camelot or common bandits, when collecting firewood, he would still have to watch his back. At first, Uther had been satisfied with just driving those with magic outside of the city and outlying villages. "If they chose to go against the decrees of Camelot, let them live like outlaws," Uther had said. That didn't satisfy his hatred for long. This evil breed had to be wiped off the face of the earth. The sorcerers and Druids and all that refused to take part in Uther's hatred were scattered once again, fleeing deeper into the woods for sanctuary. Beroun had been three years old. That was the first time he saw this hill.

Majesty. That's the only word that describes it. Like a really old fortress built to defend just principles, enshrined in the years, but frozen in time. The feeling gave a sense of old magic from the earth itself. Those without "the gift" felt eerie in its presence, but to those who refused to be blinded by hatred—to those who would see life for what it could be, it was the definition of magic and hope. This hill was their protector. Many times over the years Beroun's people had been pursued by Uther. Many times they had retreated into the woods. A mixture of elevation, vantage point, and enchantment had kept them from being detected on this hill.

The first rule of hiding—never stay in one place too long. Eventually, you'll be found. If they wished to continue to use this hill as an advantage, they couldn't live there. It had to be saved for special occasions. Like now.

"_Ironic,_" thought Beroun. "_My entire life I had been taught to fear Uther, though to him I had never lost a single friend. Now I and my family will meet our end, by the hands of a creature with magic…" _

He looked around at his company. Their faces were worn and tired. It would be so easy to give up and let life go back to normal. Even as this thought entered into his mind, he dismissed it. He could not turn his back on anyone who needed his help. That's not the kind of people the Druids were. He himself had magic, as did his little sister, and many other Druid adults and children. Not as powerful as the sorceress Eabae, but still. If it were his little sister who had come to strangers for help, he would hope someone would be kind to her plight. There was a magical creature in these woods that was attracted to magic, and fed off of those who possessed it. With each feeding the monster became more powerful and dreadful. It had found Eabae because of her skill, but even Eabae in all her power couldn't defeat it. She had found Beroun's people while fleeing, and the creature had found them in its pursuit. Eabae did what she could to protect the people, being among the wounded in the process, and they had managed to escape, however barely. He owed Eabae. She didn't have to help his people. She could have used the distraction of the creature to make her own escape, but she had fought for them. And now she needed them. 5 people had died that day. Beroun started making his ascend up the hill's steep. _"Let's hope this hill will save us one more time…"_


	3. Chapter 3

Arthur almost flew down those steps. They had arrived outside with such speed that Merlin was surprised no one accused them of using sorcery. Uther had already been outside conversing with the knights, but all conversation yielded when the royal procession approached. Everyone was outside to greet the noble guests—even commoners lined up on the streets to see what was going on. Servants, cooks, orphans, and King—all lined up with the utmost care and formality to welcome this leader of an allied nation. Everyone using formality except Arthur, who was finding it difficult to stand in his place beside the King. Everything inside of him wanted to run up to Ainsley; to see if he was the same. Nervousness had kicked in.

The prince's procession slowed to an eventual stop, its leader dressed in the most majestic of royal cloaks and armor, his shield bearing the mark of his forefathers—a hawk with sharp talons. He nobly took off his head armor, for the first time revealing his face. Suddenly, his eyes brightened, and he jumped off his horse like a child.

"Arthur!" the young man ran towards him. The nervousness in Arthur melted away, and he couldn't help but smile back. "Ainsley!" he answered, and the two clasped each other's backs in an embrace of brotherhood. "It's been way too long."

Ainsley pushed back. "I agree! We must decide who's at fault for this, and have them executed," he joked, in mocked seriousness.

"Quite right. This can't be allowed to happen again," Arthur joined in.

"This is no way for two princes to run their kingdoms."

"Upon further investigation," played Arthur, in a tone Merlin almost mistook for sincere, "I think you'll find the instigator of this monstrosity to be…" then he stopped. Merlin looked on in suspense.

"ETHAN!" both Ainsley and Arthur said in unison, trying to stiful their laughter. It didn't work, for both boys were almost blinking back tears as they relived a memory.

Merlin raised his eyebrows. Apparently some inside joke that he knew nothing about. He had never even met anyone named Ethan.

Arthur tried to regain composure. Merlin looked on as Ainsley tried to do the same. There was no awkwardness between the two. After having not seen each other for five years, he expected at least some hesitation, but the two honestly looked like no time had passed. "_Great", _thought Merlin. "_Arthur was right. He's never going to let me forget that…" _The two of them standing side-by-side—it looked… natural. Like it was meant to be. But there was something about Ainsley that Merlin liked, too.

"This is my servant, Merlin," Arthur introduced, putting a hand on Merlin's shoulder and calling him back from his thoughts. "He worships the ground I walk on, so if you see him looking at me in wonderment and awe, don't be taken aback."

Ainsley chuckled as Merlin shot Arthur a look, trying to remember that Uther was standing only a few feet away. He lowered his voice so only the three of them could hear. "Well, it IS a wonder that anybody with Prince Arthur's ability and whit could actually manage to keep his place on the throne and survive for this long… " Ainsley laughed harder at Merlin's banter. Now Arthur shot Merlin the glance. "Merlin…"

"It's only natural that ordinary people like me would be in awe…"

"MERlin!"

"Take your bags, Sire?" Merlin asked towards Ainsley.

"Please," Ainsley answered in a jovial mood.

Merlin started toward the horses, but Arthur cut in front of him to put an arm around Ainsley. The two slowly made their way towards the king. "Now that that's behind us, are you ready for what will certainly become known as probably THE best week of our lives... including…"

"Camping trip in the Northern woods?" Ainsley interrupted, as hopeful and excited as a child.

Arthur paused trying to contain his own excitement, one friendly arm still around the other prince. "I KNEW there was a reason you and I were friends…" Both boys smiled in anticipation as Merlin was still unloading Ainsley's provisions. "There's just one thing we have to do first," Arthur stated quietly as they approached Uther. "Father—you remember Prince Ainsley of Lentina."

"Ainsley, of course. I cannot believe how you have changed. The last time I saw you, you were just a boy."

"Probably no change then, Sire," Ainsley joked.

Uther brushed it off formally, but cordially. "I wish your father was able to accompany you."

"Yes, King Alric sends his kindest regards and regrets that he was not able to make this journey."

"I understand. The responsibilities of being King are great."

"That they are, my lord."

"You are most welcome here, Ainsley. Seeing you again has reminded me of your and Arthur's youth. I even feel a bit younger in my old age."

"Well you look exactly the same to me now as you did then, Sire," Ainsley answered. There was something in Uther's voice that did make Merlin awe. Uther had always welcomed nobility into his castle with a great deal of respect, but there was something else about this exchange between words. It was the look in Uther's eyes. He also seemed joyful over their meeting again after so long. He had known Ainsley for a long time, since he was a child. Uther had a bond with him, too.

"Come on," Arthur whispered, trying to grab his arm to turn him away.

"Anything you need during your stay, " Uther commented, turning Ainsley back to face him. "Anything at all…"

"Yes, Father, I'll make sure of it," Arthur answered, this time succeeding in pulling Ainsley away from formal introductions. They made their way up the stairs.

Suddenly Ainsley froze, as if thrown back into reality, or waking up from a dream. "My knights!" Ainsley exclaimed. Arthur looked at him quizzically. "They came all this way… I should be sure…"

"My father will see to their needs," Arthur tried to brush off. "In fact—" He took another step to get a good view. "MERLIN! Help… all of them, will you?"

Merlin, who had finally almost finished balancing every bag and provision secured on Ainsley's horse looked up at Arthur as he heard his name. Then he looked at the "them" Arthur gestered toward, and back at Arthur in disbelief. _There has to be 15 knights, their servants, and over 20 horses…"_ he thought. Arthur just answered by giving him a cheeky look that would say, "Yeah," if it had been voiced. Merlin's shoulders dropped in the opposite of anticipation. _"Maybe I won't like Ainsley visiting after all," _he thought to himself.


	4. Chapter 4

Arthur and Ainsley had been in the guest chamber for forty-five minutes when Merlin caught up to them, Ainsley's luggage packed around him like a donkey. Neither one of them seemed to notice much when he entered into the room. Merlin dropped all of Ainsley's bags on the floor, suddenly succumbing to their weight. _"At least I made it this far…"_

"Merlin, what are you doing?" Arthur asked, staring at him incredulously.

"The…" Merlin tried to answer, but was out of breath. He gestured instead. "The bags, sire…" he panted.

"Well don't go using them as a giant haystack—they weren't meant to be jumping into."

Merlin was ready to bounce back with a comeback when Ainsley stepped in as mediator. "Come on, Arthur— it's pretty amazing he was able to get that all here in one trip." Merlin looked up at him questioningly. Was he standing up for a servant? THAT wasn't something he had seen every day. "Besides, I didn't see YOU carrying any of my luggage up…" Ainsley added in a jesting tone and smirk to Arthur.

"Oh, you'll never see that," Merlin said, looking up at Arthur with a smile.

"I guess you're right," replied Arthur. "It is pretty amazing that Merlin was able to carry all that upstairs, considering he was built like a girl."

"Well at least if I were a girl, you'd carry some luggage for me" Merlin shot back. Ainsley let out a chuckle as Merlin stood up, and Merlin found himself letting out a short laugh in return. For the first time, Merlin allowed himself to look at Ainsley more closely. Many of the nobles he met had an arrogant presence around them. They were stuck up. They looked at him as if he were inferior, if they even looked at him at all. Ainsley looked at him as if he were there. When he talked, he looked him in the eyes. There was a genuine kindness to this prince, and a pleasant disposition not unlike Arthur's. Plus, he thought Merlin was funny. Merlin hated to admit it to himself, but he decided Arthur was right—he liked Ainsley.

Arthur caught onto the moment of new friendship the two of them were forming and raised his eyebrows. He thought changing the subject would be the easiest route. "Did you see to all of Ainsley's knights?"

"Yeah. They're all put in the West Wing chambers, and the horses are all housed and fed."

Arthur looked at Merlin almost impressed. "You did that already?"

"Yeah…" Merlin shot back in defense. "I'm not as useless as you'd like for me to believe…" which was true, and partly not. Merlin always did whatever he was asked to do to the best of his ability, but he would never have been able to finish in under an hour if this time a fellow servant hadn't taken pity on him and volunteered to take in the horses.

"And you had help," Arthur said, as if reading his mind.

"Only… a little." There were times when Arthur could be so blind—especially when it came to Merlin—that he forgot how well Arthur actually knew him. "From Mathier."

Arthur looked at Merlin confused. "Who?"

Merlin, who had started to gather Ainsley's possessions again, stared back in disbelief. "Mathier."

"How am I supposed to know who that is?" he started to lecture.

"He works in the castle!" Merlin answered, emphasizing every word.

"Merlin, there are probably hundreds of people who work in this castle. You expect me to know each of their names? I can barely remember yours…"

"Oh yes, I'm just one of the lucky few to be graced with existence in your memory."

"Merlin…"

"You need to be more in touch with the people. Especially those who spend their days making yours easier."

Suddenly both of them at the same time remembered Ainsley was in the room and stopped, looking back at Ainsley awkwardly. The pair wasn't used to having such conversations in front of a noble guest, let alone an old friend of Arthur's.

It was Ainsley who broke the silence. "I guess I haven't offered to carry my own luggage either," he stated, and picked up some of the bags left behind. He let out a smile when he saw that neither Merlin nor Arthur had moved. "You two look like children who have just been caught doing something you weren't supposed to do..." Merlin smiled, thinking of how many times today he had thought of Ainsley and Arthur as acting like children. Ainsley added with a mischievous smile, "Don't worry, Arthur… I won't tell your father on you…"

Just then, there was a knock on the door.

"Enter," Arthur replied. The door opened revealing a knight.

"Prince Arthur, the King demands your presence immediately."

Arthur looked at Ainsley, and the excitement on his face fell slightly. "I'll be right there," he finally replied, and the knight left. "Duty calls," Arthur shrugged.

"I know what that's like," Ainsley replied in friendly support.

Arthur put a hand on his shoulder and smiled. "You're the only one who would."

Merlin once again felt his own face fall, but he wasn't quite sure why. Was he jealous of Ainsley and Arthur? Probably. Or was he saddened because in reality, he DID know what it was like to have such a burden placed on your shoulders, and to be reminded of that burden constantly. He knew exactly how Arthur felt. Surely he of all people knew what it was like to be alone. But Merlin didn't have an Ainsley to share that with. Merlin had Arthur. And Arthur couldn't know.

"Merlin," Arthur commanded, once again bringing Merlin out of his thoughts. "Make sure Ainsley gets anything that he needs."

"Of course, Sire."

Arthur added, turning to Ainsley, "Merlin is at your disposal. Let him prove to you he's not worthless."

Merlin shot Arthur a sarcastic "thanks" look behind his back. He turned to Ainsley and was surprised to see him still cleaning up. "You don't have to do that, my lord," Merlin stated, attempting to take the luggage away from the visiting prince.

Ainsley held up a hand to keep Merlin away. "Ainsley," he replied. "Please, not 'my lord'; not 'sire'—just Ainsley. Merlin, right?"

Merlin was pleasantly confused. "Yeah. But really, let me- I don't mind."

Ainsley shook his head in a friendly rejection. "Well I do."

Merlin couldn't help but smile. He liked this Ainsley more and more. "Well at least let me _help_," Merlin replied, almost sarcastically.

In the throne room, Arthur expected to see his father busy with preparations for the stay of Ainsley and his knights. He didn't expect a closed-door meeting, and he definitely didn't expect what he found behind those closed doors. A man dressed in a dark cloak, hunched over masking what Arthur speculated was his real age, standing in the shadows. A hood covered his face, and just from looking at him, Arthur could feel his blood pressure rising. "_Is this feeling a warning…"_ Arthur asked himself. There was something about this man he didn't trust.

The council included the king who was sitting on his throne, Arthur's knights, a few noblemen, and Gaius—each staring at this shrouded figure, who, it seemed, refused to speak.

"If you mean us no harm," Arthur started, "show yourself."

"My lords, I wish you no misfortune," he answered in a raspy voice. Arthur couldn't tell if it was his real voice or an attempt at masking it. "But I take a great risk in coming here, and I wish my identity to remain a secret."

"You'll find no divulgers in this room," Arthur affirmed.

"I envy the confidence you have in your men, Prince Arthur," the stranger responded, "but with all due respect, the only sure way to keep a secret is to keep it a secret."

"And what is it you wish to say?" Uther asked. "Having undertaken such measures to seek the council's audience, I dread to think of the reason…"

Everyone was quiet, waiting for him to explain. Suddenly a new confidence seemed to seize the stranger.

"There lives in the eastern woods such a creature, Sire. Conjured by magic. Feasting upon the very souls of those who would harness the power to create it. The more powerful the soul, the more satisfying to the creature."

"And you know this how?" Arthur asked, still suspicious.

"I… was among them."

"You're a druid?" asked Uther warily.

"I assure you, I am not, my lord. But their paths and mine have crossed…" The stranger lifted his head just enough so he could determine the emotion of Uther. He knew it was a dangerous thing to come here the way he did—if he wanted to get out alive, he'd have to play his cards right. Uther showed no signs of easing up. "After the death of my mother, I was abandoned by my remaining relatives. Left in the woods with no other means of survival, I one day came across the Druids. They taught me skills that I would need to survive and make it on my own. Though I have never dwelt with them, there are many Druids who have known me since I was young who still trust me."

"So you would betray your friends?" Arthur asked, less and less impressed by the moment.

"I do this to protect my friends, Sire. There are many among them who harness the power of magic. This beast goes forth from village to village, attacking, absorbing the individual. Once the person is gone, it can claim their magic."

"Do we know anything of how it was made?" Uther asked.

"It is my understanding that it was forged by a priestess of the old religion, who hopes to instill terror upon the heart of all Camelot," the stranger answered.

"Once all the sorcerers are eliminated, there would be no one to stop her from becoming the most powerful magician of our time," Gaius pronounced. All eyes turned to him.

"Precisely," the stranger answered with a smirk.

"Then we must go and destroy it," Arthur stated.

Uther had a thought. "Not quite…"

"Father, a magic beast is let loose in our kingdom," Arthur stated, confused.

"Yes," Uther responded.

Arthur paused a moment, waiting for an explanation. There was none. "I'm not sure I understand…"

"You said it attacks people who possess magic?" Uther asked with a slight smile.

"Yes, my lord."

Uther leaned back in his throne as if he were relieved. "Then our prayers are answered."

"Father?" Arthur knew what his father was thinking, but he wasn't sure he agreed.

"No more will you be in danger, Arthur. No more will we lose our knights fighting this evil. If this beast can get to sorcerers so we don't have to; secure our resources…."

"My lord?" the stranger asked, not quite sure he understood what was going on as well.

Arthur stood still for a moment, slightly disappointed. He didn't approve of the use of magic any more than his father did, but the thought of a mystical creature lurking in the shadows, reaping havoc and seizing fear upon his own people didn't appeal to him either. "So, we do nothing?"

"I take it you disapprove," enounced Uther.

Arthur wasn't sure if this was one of those battles he should pick to fight. "What about all of the innocent villagers? The loyal townspeople. Surely we cannot leave them unprotected."

The entire audience seemed to hold their breath, their eyes moving from Arthur to the king. Was Camelot about to wage war upon magic, or leave its people defenseless?

Uther finally broke the silence. "Am I to understand…It only attacks those who would use magic?"

"From what I've seen, Sire, those with the power have been preyed upon."

Uther looked at his son. There was something in Arthur's eyes that said he was still unsure. Though he didn't voice it often, the king trusted his son more and more as Arthur's judgment had in the last few years begun to mature. It was almost as if Arthur had a sixth sense for this kind of thing. Perhaps he should listen, or make some sort of compromise. If he was wrong, at the very least, he could ease Arthur's mind.

"I suppose it wouldn't hurt to send a scout or two," Uther decreed, "so we know what we're dealing with."

The worry lines Arthur was trying to hide earlier erased.

"But make no mistake of this, Arthur—your first priority is to entertain Ainsley and his men. Let the army handle this one. Lentina has been a powerful ally in the past, and a friend we cannot afford to lose. The ties you make with Alric's heir will secure Camelot's future."

With the new threat upon them, Arthur almost forgot he had a friend visiting, and although he definitely didn't see Ainsley as a way to secure Camelot's future, being ordered to spend time with him wasn't unappealing. "Yes, Sire."

"Bring down the scrolls with the maps of the woodland areas. Sir Leon will send scouts immediately."

"Yes, my lord," stated Arthur, then turned to the stranger to get a look at him one last time, but to his surprise, and the surprise of the entire court, the stranger had disappeared. Arthur looked around questioningly.

Merlin started collecting the rest of Ainsley's things. He didn't have much left to do. "If you have any embarrassing stories about Arthur, I wouldn't mind listening to them." Ainsley looked and silently laughed. Merlin continued, " You know—if you were wanting to tell someone and just waiting for the chance all of these years but couldn't find the right person…"

"Oh, I have stories, believe me. But most of them involve me, so I would be incriminating myself…"

"MERLIN," Arthur shouted, earning Merlin's attention. "My chambers are a mess. See if you can't find your way through them and tidy up a bit. We don't want our guests to think we hire just anybody around here…"

"You told me to look after Ainsley," Merlin reminded him. He had to admit, making a new friend was more appealing than cleaning Arthur's dirty socks.

"Don't worry— I'll take over. I think I'm much better company for him, anyway."

It was almost noon. Merlin was hours behind in his chores. Looking after Ainsley, 15 knights, and their horses was starting to take its toll. He was getting tired. "_Okay, so I technically didn't have to take care of the horses…"_ he thought to himself, but even so, he had been running all morning without a chance to sit down. And now this…

Merlin looked around at Arthur's chambers. Dirty clothes and piles of things he didn't even recognize laid everywhere. How did Arthur even manage to make this mess? He hadn't even been in his room all day…

"_Well, I guess there's no harm in trying_…" Merlin thought. If he was ever going to get done with his chores, he was going to need his other set of skills. Arthur should be out doing whatever it was that he and Ainsley set out to do, and no one else ever entered into this room, except maybe Gwen, who was busy looking after Morgana.

Merlin looked around the room one more time. He really didn't have much of a choice. Usually he was good at doing things on his own, but magic had always been a part of him, and to not use it was like denying a part of himself. How many times did he have a chance to truly be alone in a room?

"Fýrhús sylfum áfeormian!" His eyes flashed gold. Suddenly Arthur's chambers were in chaos, cleaning itself and tiding up every corner. Merlin watched, his eyes dancing. Part of him never felt more like himself than when he used his magic. He might have to keep it secret, but that didn't mean he had to keep it in a box all the time.

Merlin, however, was so lost in his own excitement he didn't hear Arthur approaching.

"I just have to grab one thing for my father and we'll be back on schedule… Wait right here—I don't want you tripping over whatever's going on in there," he joked.

Just at that moment, Arthur broke through the door. "MERlin, I need you to…" His sentence trailed off as he beheld his now spotless room. Merlin felt the hair stand up on his back.

"How did you… that was impossibly fast."

Merlin froze, like a deer in headlights, desperate to find a way out. "What was?"

"This room—it was a mess."

"It was?"

"Yes!" Arthur answered, incredulously.

"I mean, it was. But… I cleaned it."

Arthur paused again, trying to understand. "I JUST left this room, not five minutes ago."

"5 minutes? Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm SURE, Merlin! I sent you here from just half way down the hall- then I remembered I had forgotten something."

"No, that was 20 minutes ago." Merlin responded innocently.

"20 minutes? Are you mad? I was JUST here!" Arthur was getting worked up.

Merlin pretended to be perplexed, as if he were once again speaking to a child. "And yet, if that were true, how would I have been able to clean up all of this mess…"

Arthur shouted, exasperated. "Exactly! That's what I'm asking!"

Merlin's eyes narrowed in feigned concern. "Are you all right, Sire?"

Arthur looked at Merlin puzzled. Could it really have been 20 minutes since he had walked out of the room? It didn't feel like that long, but what other explanation could there have been? Still, Merlin was acting his normal suspicious self. If it HAD been 20 minutes, where did the other fifteen minutes go from Arthur's memory?

Merlin took advantage of his confusion. "You said you'd forgotten something?"

"Yes." Arthur kept staring at Merlin, unsure of what just happened. But then again, he had given up on trying to understand Merlin a long time ago. "It's a scroll—I'm supposed to deliver it to my father… are you CERTAIN it's been 20 minutes?"

Ainsley peeked around the corner and looked around the room, a little confused himself.

"Here." Merlin handed it to Arthur.

"Thanks." Arthur was still staring at Merlin, confused.

Merlin stared back at him. "…What?"

Arthur just shook his head_. "Just don't TRY to understand it, Arthur. You know you get confused whenever you talk to Merlin," _he said to himself. But then again, that's why he liked Merlin—things were never boring when he was around.


End file.
